


zig zag boy

by vvelna



Series: magician au [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, fic writer!me, magician!phil, magician's assistant!dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 03:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16318679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vvelna/pseuds/vvelna
Summary: Phil is a magician and Dan is his assistant.





	zig zag boy

**Author's Note:**

> bingo fic for the prompt "magic au"

They don’t present themselves as a couple. They’re just colleagues with good chemistry. _The Amazing Phil—_ an endearing magician—and his charismatic assistant, Dan.

Only Dan gets to see Phil tucked away in the green room, glassy-eyed, clutching a pillow to his chest.

“I don’t want to do it,” he mumbles into the pillow. “You can’t make me do it.”

Dan doesn’t bother telling him that yes, he has to do it, or they’ll be out quite a bit of money—not to mention the damage to their professional reputation. Phil gets like this before every performance. His stage fright reaches its peak, and he entertains the idea of running away. Dan plops down on the sofa beside him, extracting the pillow and replacing it with his body, like a giant cat draped over Phil’s lap. The close contact eases Phil’s nerves. He runs his fingers through Dan’s hair until they both feel calmer. Eventually they separate so they can get themselves dressed and presentable.

Dan squeezes himself into skintight, stretchy black pants and a matching long-sleeved top. Glittery threads sewn into the fabric will sparkle under the stage lights, and mesh panels cut stripes across his midriff and thighs. He stretches out his arms and legs, limbering up for the performance. Several of the tricks hinge on his flexibility and uncanny ability to make his large body fit into small spaces.

There’s a knock on the door signaling it’s time for mics and makeup. Then they make their way toward the stage, to wait in the wings and listen to the chatter of the crowd.

“I’ve forgot how to do all the tricks,” Phil says.

“Me too,” Dan replies. Because it isn’t just Phil who has to know how to do everything. At least half the work rests on Dan’s shoulders.

And then they hear “Please welcome to the stage, _The Amazing Phil!_  " Phil steels himself, looks around, and gives Dan the quickest kiss on the cheek before heading out beyond the curtain.

Dan has to wait while Phil does some tricks on his own. He smiles at all of the little jokes Phil tells as he entertains the crowd. He’s heard them all hundreds of times; he mouths along and rolls his eyes fondly at the predictable punchlines.

And then Phil calls out, “Please welcome my lovely assistant, Dan!”

That’s his cue to strut out on stage, smiling and waving to the crowd, blowing a few kisses and dropping a few winks.

Tonight they’re doing the zig zag girl—or rather, the zig zag boy. A stagehand who works for the venue rolls out the box. It’s made of three segments, with two holes in the top part—one for Dan’s face to peek out of, the other for him to stick his left hand through. The middle section has another hand hole, lower down, for Dan’s right hand. The box is bigger than most used for such an illusion—particularly in height—because Dan is bigger than the average petite magician’s assistant. It’s painted a vibrant blue with swirls of glitter and a golden border around the outside. The wide golden strip of the border is what Dan will conceal himself behind; the box is larger on the inside than it appears on the outside.

“For my next trick, I’m going to be cutting poor Dan into pieces, but don’t worry, I fully intend to put him back together again.”

Once inside the box, Dan keeps his face forward and his hands through both holes, but turns his body to the side, behind the thin strip of space he will occupy while Phil moves the cubes around. He sucks in his stomach and wiggles his fingers at the audience. He’s only half-listening to Phil explain what he’s supposedly going to be doing. He’s more concerned with making sure he does what he needs to do. If he fails, it reflects on Phil. A mistake on Dan’s part will be interpreted as a mistake made by Phil, because he’s the magician and Dan is only the assistant.

Phil inserts the first blade, right below his neck. The handle is wider than the blade itself, and it doesn’t touch Dan’s body. Even so, the blade isn’t actually sharp, just in case Dan falls out of position or doesn’t move over as far as he’s supposed to. Dan loves being hyperaware of the few centimeters of space between the base of his throat and the blade. It wouldn’t cut him if he touched it, but the illusion of danger is thrilling. Half the fun of doing these tricks is letting himself believe in the magic enough to keep the mundane repetition exciting.

He wiggles his fingers again, waving at the audience and smiling like he’s having the most pleasant time. Phil inserts the second blade at hip height.

“Ready?” he mouths at Dan, before turning back to the audience.

Dan doesn’t reply, just smiles. If he wasn’t, he’d say something. Phil moves to the side of the box and slowly pushes the middle cube out. Dan extends his arm along with it, keeping his body still concealed behind the strip of wood down the front of the box. His abs and legs are burning from holding himself perfectly still. He waves both hands again to show the audience that he’s just fine—despite being cut in thirds. It’s a gesture so practiced he doesn’t have to think about it. He lets himself focus on the physical sensations, on the undeniable solidity of his body and its strengths and weaknesses. Performing magic with Phil has given him a way to ground himself in reality.

“How are you feeling, Dan?”

“Marvelous!” He gives two thumbs up.

Phil reaches through the empty space where the middle section was, to show the audience that it is indeed empty. The first time they practiced the illusion, Dan was shirtless, and Phil deliberately dragged his thumb across the sensitive skin of Dan’s stomach, tickling him and making him almost fall out of position. He’s totally professional now. On stage he sometimes pretends to be a little bit surprised when his tricks work out as he’d planned them, but really he knows exactly what he’s doing. Dan has watched Phil practice over and over, endlessly, working against his clumsiness and his tendency to get easily flustered under pressure. The illusions Phil does on his own require dexterity and precision. It doesn’t come naturally. Through dedicated practice Phil has transformed himself into a confident and competent performer.

When Phil pushes the middle section back into place, Dan can breathe easy again and stop holding himself so still. He moves his body back to its original position, all the while keeping his face forward. He pulls his hands back into the box.

“Now, let’s see if I’ve managed to put poor Dan back to rights.”

Phil opens the box to reveal Dan completely in one piece. But there’s a layer of added pizzazz—when Dan steps out of the box, he pulls at the fabric of his shirt, revealing that long slits have been cut around the shoulders and at his hips, where the blades went through. Really, there was a thin, loose seam running around those areas, between the spandex and the mesh, and in the brief time between pulling his hands inside and Phil opening the door, Dan tugged on the threads that popped the seams. Some nights he isn't able to do it—something catches or Phil doesn't give him enough time—and during those performances, they just skip that bit. The trick still works either way.

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. At least, as far as the audience is concerned. There are always minor hiccups, but they’ve learned to improvise and work around them. They communicate through glances, body language, and the occasional code word or specific inflection.

They bow before the roaring crowd and Dan is overcome with pride—in Phil and in himself, and in this thing that they do together.

Back in the green room, Phil shrugs out of his sequined jacket, and helps peel Dan out of his tight, sweaty clothes, so he can change into something more comfortable for the trip back to the hotel. His hands linger and Dan laughs.

“Later. Not here.”

They slide into the back of a cab, leaving a respectable distance between them. Dan slides his hand across the seat in the dark to hold Phil’s. He knows what will happen when they get back to the hotel. They’ll order enough room service to feed a family of five, spread it out on one of the beds, and pass a bottle of wine back and forth. And maybe then they’ll move to the other bed and celebrate a bit more. Most likely, they’ll fall asleep—stomachs too full for anything else—and save the celebration for the morning.

And then they’ll do it all again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *~*~thanks for reading~*~*
> 
>  
> 
> [ reblog/like on tumblr ](https://velvetnautilus.tumblr.com/private/179117360930/tumblr_pgpbof193D1wm9q5f)


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